Six Weeks
by LoveAtFirstStaircase
Summary: Kurt waits for a phone call from Blaine that never comes, so he assumes Blaine took the opportunity to start a new life. A year and a half later, while in Los Angeles, Kurt meets someone who looks like Blaine, but isn't Blaine. Or is he?
1. Prolog

I wrote this during NaNoWriMo in my mother tongue. Right now I'm in the process of translating the story. The story is unbeta-ed, but I hope I got rid of most spelling mistakes. But if someone would be willing to beta this (and maybe the 4-part sequel), I would be very happy.  
>But now, on to the prolog...<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Prolog<strong>

_This is my last call to you  
>Then I'll give up everything<br>That we had, that we'd do  
>And you'll never hear me sing<br>All these songs about you_

Kurt stares at his cell phone almost coaxing. Why doesn't it ring? He looks at his watch. Well, okay, it's not evening in Los Angeles yet, maybe Blaine is still at some casting, or he finally found a job to keep his head above water in the meantime, or -

Kurt's cell phone rings and vibrates at the same time. Mere seconds before it falls from his table he grabs it and taps the 'call' button.

"Finally! You can't imagine how long -"

"Kurt?" Rachel's voice carries through.

"Oh, it's you Rachel." Kurt can't keep the disappointment out of his voice.

"Blaine still hasn't called?"

He shakes his head, only to remember that Rachel can't see him.

"No." He breathes out slowly. "That's the third day he hasn't called. I haven't heard anything from him since the short call between his arrival at the motel and his departure to the casting.

For a short moment there is only silence at Rachel's end.

"But of course you tried calling him, did you?"

Kurt can't keep himself from rolling his eyes. "Of course I did, Rachel."

"And he doesn't answer?"

"No. He doesn't answer my texts, either. I ..." He hears someone talking silently on Rachel's end. "Who's with you, Rachel?"

"Huh? Oh, my agent just came in and told me that they want me for Maria at an off- Broadway- production of West Side Story."

And there it's gone, the fleeting moment in which Rachel Berry concentrates her attention on someone else than herself. He can throw in a short "Congrats, Rachel!" before she starts chattering away about her new role and how fast she'll have a role on Broadway afterwards and Kurt will certainly - "I'm perfectly sure!" - get a role for himself soon, too.

The only thing he wants to get, Kurt thinks a few minutes later after he hung up and takes a look at his watch, is a call from Blaine. A call in which Blaine tells him everything is okay. That he misses him. That Los Angeles isn't as nice as he thought. That he comes home soon and that he wants to try his luck, like Kurt, on Broadway.

But the call doesn't come. Neither that evening nor that night. And neither the next day. And when Kurt hasn't got a sign of life from Blaine two weeks later, he admits to himself that his boyfriend is his ex-boyfriend by now. And that he obviously used Los Angeles as a chance to make off.

* * *

><p>AN: The lyrics are part of Plaine White T's "Last Call".  
>AN 2: Thanks to** chrono-contract **because it seems like I messed up while uploading that story last night. Should be fixed now!


	2. Chapter 1

_Look at me  
>Can't you see<br>We were meant to be  
>Making a memory<em>

"Come on, Kurt, you promised we would go out having dinner tonight."

Matt almost sounds a bit whiny and Kurt has to refrain from rolling his eyes.

"And what are you doing when we don't? Are you going to stomp your foot and scream 'but I want to'?" he asks, half exasperated, half annoyed. But he regrets it as soon as he looks at Matt. "I'm sorry, Matt, but -"

"Yeah, yeah, I know, I know. You're stressed out, the tour and everything. Blah blah."

Kurt looks into the mirror and sees Matt sitting on the bed behind him, tying his shoe laces. He looks back at himself and finishes tying his tie. He takes a step back and looks at his reflection. He straightens his tie's knot a bit so it is exactly in the middle and then nods at himself contentedly.

"You know, Matt," he turns to his boyfriend, or significant other, or whatever you call it when you have been together for six months now, "we have been on tour for a good seven months. Together with the rehearsals, appointments with the press, the performances and being on the road constantly I barely have time to unwind."

Matt gets up from the bed and walks over to Kurt. He kisses him on the mouth and puts his hands on Kurt's hips. "Do you think it's different for me? Okay, I'm only your understudy and most of the time I'm just a part of the ensemble. But that doesn't mean that I don't need some time to relax." He puts his forehead to Kurt's. "And that's exactly why we want to go out for dinner. So we actually can relax."

Kurt nods. "You're right. I'm sorry."

Matt laughs silently. "You don't need to be sorry." He pulls Kurt towards the door and grabs both of their coats. If there is one thing they learnt during the two weeks they have spent in Los Angeles, it is that it doesn't matter how wonderfully warm it is during the day. As soon as it gets dark it gets cold, too, and you better have something warm to wear with you.

When they arrive at the restaurant – it's a recommendation from Mercedes who lived in Los Angeles for two years – they leave their Zipcar with the valet parking.

They enter the restaurant and Kurt has to admit that Mercedes got more confidence in her style over the years. And if it's only her choice of perfect locations.

The restaurant is big, with dark wooden furniture and dark red curtains. The cream colored table cloths are wonderful accents and the candles' lights harmonize beautifully with the dimmed light. At the other side of the big room, on some sort of small stage, is a piano. Right now, no one is sitting at it, but there are not many patrons at the restaurant, either. Kurt guesses that someone is going to play for the guests as soon as it is later at night.

"Welcome to the Adagio, my name is Melissa. How are you?" The young waitress smiles at them and shows two rows of pearly white teeth.

"Great, thanks. How are you?", Matt smiles back while Kurt looks around.

"I'm fine, thanks. How can I help you?"

"We would like to have a table for two."

"Of course." She still smiles and for a short moment Kurt thinks her smile is a bit disturbing. "Would you like to be seated close to a window, or do you prefer a table farther at the back?"

"Kurt?" Matt looks at him, as well as the waitress.

"Huh? Uhm, how about the back? It's a bit more quite there?"

"Of course," Melissa says again and walks ahead of them to a table close to the piano. "How about this one? Our pianist starts playing in half an hour, so -"

"Thank you, this table is perfect," Kurt interrupts her. Although he is on stage almost every night singing, he just can't get enough of music.

"Welcome to the Adagio," chimes a voice next to them only a few minutes after Matt and Kurt sat down at the table. "My name's Patrick and I'm your waiter tonight."

Kurt looks up and takes a good look at the young man who's standing close to their table. He's young, probably a college student and he looks really, really good. A dark tan, hair bleached by the sun and you can see his muscles underneath his white shirt. Kurt guesses that he goes surfing in his free time between college and job.

He hands them the menu and gives Matt a huge smile. Of course Matt, not Kurt. Most people notice Matt first, why he wasn't first choice for the lead role, but Kurt was, is still a bit beyond Kurt. Matt is tall, almost six feet three inches, with broad shoulders, bright blue eyes and blonde hair that falls slightly into his face tonight.

"May I take your drink order?"

Kurt glances at the drink-section of the menu. Unlike Matt, he has to attend dance- and sing-rehearsals tomorrow and in the evening he has a performance. So no alcohol for him tonight. "I have a -" he skims the part with the non-alcoholic drinks, "a tall sparkling water, with only a bit of ice, please."

"Of course. And for you?" Patrick looks at Matt again with this almost hungry look in his eyes. Finally Kurt knows what Patrick reminds him of: a hungry animal that has its prey just in front of it.

Matt and Kurt talk to each other quietly. About the newest gossip in their musical-group with which they tour. About the weather here in Southern California. About what they are going to do on their next day off together.

Just as they discuss the possibility of going to Santa Monica - "The Third Street Promenade is said to have really great stores, Kurt! And it's not too far away from the pier. You know, we could go to Pacific Park and go on a ride on the Ferris wheel." - their appetizer arrives.

At the same time a young man steps onto the stage next to their table, sits down at the piano and starts playing a classical piece which Kurt can't place at this moment.

In the middle of their table is a huge plate with bruschetta, vitello tonnato, and prosciutto with melon. Kurt takes one of the bruschetta, looks up to the piano and lets the piece of bread drop in horror.

Playing the piano, barely sixteen feet away, is Blaine, completely lost in the music. He looks good in his cream colored dress shirt with his dark red bow tie, almost a bit as if he was part of the interior. His hair is still curly, but he wears it without gel now, and Kurt thinks it looks far better.

After a year and a half, take or give a month, he sees Blaine again. Blaine, whom he thought he would never see again. Blaine, about whom he thought had left him to start a new life in Los Angeles and now he meets him here again. In a city with roughly four million inhabitants, not to count the eight million people living in Los Angeles County. Los Angeles, the city that almost caused him to quit his job with the musical group, just because hearing the name caused so much pain Kurt only has when thinking about his mom.

Kurt shakes his head and then looks to Matt.

"I said your name three times. What's wrong?"

"It's ..." Kurt reaches for his water. Only now he realizes that he's shaking. And suddenly it's hard for him to breathe and to be honest, he would like to stand up, throw his napkin on the table and leave. Back to New York, to the other side of the country, far, far away from here. But instead he takes a sip from his water and the clinking of the ice inside the glass calms him a bit somehow. "Let's talk about it tomorrow, okay?"

Matt looks at him for a moment. In the seven months he has known Kurt Hummel, he learnt to just take some things as they are and give his boyfriend the time he needs. "That's alright." Matt smiles tentatively. "Try the melon, it's really good." He takes a forkful of melon with ham and offers it Kurt. And although Kurt suddenly isn't hungry anymore, he tries it.

The main course, spaghetti all'amatriciana, tastes somehow stale, too, although it smells and looks wonderfully. But he knows that it's not the fault of the cook, that it simply can't be the cook's fault. It's his fault. To be honest, it's more likely the fault of the young guy he refuses to look at, because he's bound to scream at him where the fucking hell he had been the past year and a half.

And then, when it's almost ten o'clock, they finally – finally! - ask for the bill. Matt pays without talking about it with Kurt first. Leah, Kurt's partner on stage, calls it one of their "weird relationship rules", because during the first weeks of them dating Matt and Kurt agreed on taking turns when it comes to paying the bills.

"Everything was fine?" Patrick asks when he puts away his generous tip and looks at Matt with his most flashing smile.

"Yes, thank you," says Kurt. "But I have one question."

"Of course." Now Patrick looks at Kurt.

"The … young man, who's sitting at the piano ..." Patrick looks over Kurt's shoulder to Blaine. "What's his name?"

The waiter looks back at Kurt again, raises one eyebrow and grins. "That's Jake."

Jake it is, then. Not Blaine. But it is Blaine. Kurt's so sure of it as of the fact that he's gay. "Thanks."

Patrick nods and leaves, but not without shooting Matt one last look.

They leave the restaurant, Matt gives the guys at the valet parking their chip and puts his arm around Kurt while they wait for their car. But Kurt just wants to go back to their hotel room, crawl into bed and not leave it for the next few years.

* * *

><p>AN: The lyrics in this chapter are from "Make a Memory" by Plain White T's.


	3. Chapter 2  Part 1

_These fancy things  
>Will never come in between<br>You are my entity, here for infinity  
>When the war has took it's part<br>When the world has dealt it's cards  
>If the hand is hard, together we'll mend your heart<em>

The next days just fly by. Kurt and Matt spend the time between eleven in the morning and midnight either with rehearsals, costume fittings or on stage with performances. Then there's the weekend and their "couple routine", again one of Leah's descriptions for their relationship, turns upside down once again.

"You really have to work tomorrow?"

They sit in Kurt's dressing room and Kurt is removing his make-up while Matt sits on the small sofa and looks hungrily at a box of chocolates.

"That's kind of a stupid question, sweetheart." He picks a chocolate from the box and pops it into his mouth. "We have one day every other week just for us." In the mirror Kurt sees Matt counting the chocolates and then deciding for another one. "The lead, that's you honey, has a day off tomorrow, so the cover, that's me, has to take over. That's why my day off is the day after tomorrow."

Kurt sighs. It's his first day off since he saw Blaine, or the Blaine look-alike they call Jake and he's a bit afraid of the things that could happen.

Someone knocks on the door and Kurt snaps out of his thoughts. "Come in!"

It's Leah who opens the door. Somehow she looks funny. She wears her everyday clothes – boyfriend-style jeans and a snug tanktop – but she still has her wig on with an elegant up-do and the full make up for performances.

"Hey guys."

"Hey Leah," Kurt answers while he tries almost desperately to get rid of that last bit of darned theater make-up. Matt just waves, because he just ate his – hopefully last – chocolate. It's not that he can't afford it, but Kurt would really like to have one or maybe two of the chocolates he got as a gift.

"We would like to go and party a bit tonight." She closes the door behind her and leans next to it against the wall. "Or rather … Some rich guy we seem to have impressed invited us to … uh … an after show party," she makes air-quotes, "in his mansion. West Hollywood. Beverly Hills. Or somewhere like that." She shrugs. "I didn't really pay attention. Anyways, he's sending a few stretch limos, so we really do show up." She looks expectantly at Matt first, then at Kurt.

Kurt throws away the last cotton pad and reaches for his moisturizer. "I don't know, Leah..." He unscrews the lid, takes a bit of the cream and starts applying it meticulously and evenly on his face.

"Oh, come on, Kurt. It's your day off tomorrow. It's my day off tomorrow and we both know that Matt doesn't need that much of sleep." She walks over to the mirror and puts her arms around Kurt from behind. "And, sweetheart, don't tell me that you don't need a bit of distraction as well," she whispers into Kurt's ear. "Even if Matt's a bit slow if it comes to things like that, I have noticed you're a bit absent during rehearsals."

Kurt sighs as he closes his eyes and carefully dabs it onto the skin.

"Okay, I'm coming. But if I don't like it, I'll call a cab." He opens his eyes and looks into Leah's brown ones in the mirror. "And you're paying."

She giggles and kisses him on the cheek. "Sure, babe." She walks back to the door and her hand rests on the door knob when she turns again. "We're meeting in twenty minutes at the backstage entrance. Pip, Martin and Aaron are coming, too." With that she leaves.

Matt stands up and walks over to Kurt's vanity. "That's going to be interesting." He grabs the hair gel, pops the lid open and squeezes a bit of the see-through, glibbery stuff on his hand. He rubs his hands together and runs them through his hair.

Kurt sighs again, this time silently. He had hoped to call Mercedes.

When Kurt gets out of one of the two limos he is somewhat flabbergasted. Behind the house you can see the Hollywood Hills. The house itself is set a good way back and surrounded by what is almost a park.

A young man's standing next to the gate and Kurt wonders if he is personnel or host.

"Welcome!" He hugs Aaron, who's the first one in the row, and pecks him on the cheek. "My dad told me so much about you. He's so fascinated by your performances!" Now it's Pip's turn, then Martin's. "Unfortunately I didn't get around to," a peck for Kurt on his left cheek, then on his right, "see one of your performances myself."

From close up Kurt still can't tell what he thinks of their host's son. He wears black Marc Jacobs loafer, a long, black linen trouser from Armani in charcoal and a polo shirt from Dolce and Gabbana in ice blue. On top of it he wears a thin, dark blue scarf that unsurprisingly fits his eye color, but Kurt's sure that it isn't a brand he knows, and he knows all brands. Junior has dark blue eyes and even skin, almost blinding white teeth – everyone seems to have those here in Los Angeles and in Southern California in general – and light brown hair which seem to stand in every direction. Kurt probably would take to him more if he didn't act so damn gay – there's no other word for it – and if he didn't smell like some overpowering eau de cologne.

All the way to the house, which is more of a mansion, really, he babbles on and Kurt tries to block it out. But it proves to be more difficult than he imagined, because junior constantly walks on his right side – Matt's on his left – and points to this piece of art in the park and that story of the building.

Once they walk around one of the corners of the house, Kurt actually catches his breath. The so called after show party is situated around a huge pool. A pool that's really more of a pool landscape. In each and every tree are small chains of lights and although there are not many other people, there are at least ten or fifteen people there. In front of one of the walls is a buffet that can compete with that in most four star hotels.

Junior, Kurt think he heard someone calling him Steven, stops the young woman who walks around between the guests with a tray and he gives everyone a glass of sparkling whine – probably champagne with this display of wealth.

"To a fantastic night!" junior is chiming and looks Kurt long and deep into the eyes as they raise their glasses.

Kurt looks at his watch. For the sixth time in the last three minutes as he notices. It' only a few minutes past midnight and he's bored to death. He ate at least half of the food that's offered and is now drinking his fourth glass of champagne. Steven, yes, junior's name is Steven, clings to him as if there's no tomorrow and Kurt's not really sure that he'll ever get rid of that eau de cologne in the next days.

"... and I LOVE Frank Gehry!" Steven bends Kurt's ears with talking about his studies. Architecture or something like that. Somehow he reminds him of Rachel, Kurt realizes when he looks at him again. With a few, small differences: Rachel's got more style when it comes to perfume, while Steven got more style when it comes to clothes. And he's definitely male.

Suddenly Kurt's cell phone vibrates in his pocket. He takes it out and sees that he just got a text: Kurt, got a new role! Playing Belle in BatB! Finally someone who's appreciating me! - R

He has to pull himself together to keep from bursting with laughter, because this is his chance. He pretends to write an answer and then looks at Steven who doesn't seem to have noticed that his dialog partner – more like monolog partner, Kurt thinks – was sidetracked.

"Did you know that Gehry even designed buildings in -"

"Uhm, Steve, unfortunately I have to go. A friend just texted me. Emergency and so on, you understand? I'm sorry, but maybe we'll meet again." He smiles at Steve and doesn't wait for his answer. He turns around and lets his gaze sweep over the crowd in search for Matt. He spots him, surprise, surprise, next to the buffet where he's busy talking to an elderly woman.

Kurt weaves his way through the small groups and stops right in front of his boyfriend. "I'm sorry for disturbing you." He smiles at the woman only to turn to his boyfriend. "Matt, i'm going home." He fakes a yawn. "It's been a long day and ..."

Matt first looks at the woman then at his boyfriend. "I'm sorry Kurt. Macy and I are talking about the future of the performing arts... Would you mind me coming home later?"

Kurt shakes his head. "Of course not." He smiles at his boyfriend again and stretches a bit to give him a kiss. "You got his key with you, or should I leave mine at the check-in desk?"

"I've got mine, but thanks." He grins at Kurt and kisses him again. "Have a save trip home, babe."

"And you have fun."

As he leaves he hears the woman saying to Matt: "That's your boyfriend? You really got a cute one."

A few blocks away he takes his cell phone out of his pocket and writes a text to congratulate Rachel. Then he goes online to look for the nearest taxi stand. The closest one is two blocks down the road. So it would be ridiculous to call a cab now.

It's just one block left when it starts to rain. Kurt breaks into a run, but he's sure that it's already too late. His cream colored Prada cloth pants are sure to have small mud stains on the hem.

When he reaches the taxi stand he's completely drenched. So his disappointment is really big when he neither sees a taxi nor a place he can find shelter from the rain. But he sees someone wearing red jeans and standing under a huge, bright yellow umbrella.

Kurt remembers what Mercedes said to him when he told her that they were in Los Angeles for two months: "Babe, you never know if the nice guy standing at that street corner in Los Angeles isn't a crazy gang member." And he's already soaking wet. So he stands beside Mr Umbrella – his butt is definitely male – and hopes that some time in the near future a cab turns up or that this fucking rain stops at last.

"Here you go!"

Suddenly it stops raining and the light of the street lamp seems more yellow than before, because it's filtered by the brightly yellow umbrella. He looks to his left. Mr Umbrella is standing really close to him and holds his umbrella over both of them.

"You're already wet enough. And it's big enough for the two of us." He smiles at Kurt and Kurt stops breathing for a moment. Standing next to him is Blaine. Or Jake. Or whatever. He looks like Blaine anyways and he still has that mesmerizing smile, that makes him forget how to breath and his eyes are still the same mix of hazelnut, honex and green and they still twinkle and -

"Th- thanks", Kurt stammers and suddenly he feels so damn stupid.

"Do I know you from somewhere," Blaine-Jake asks.

"M- maybe." He could hit himself that all of a sudden he's stumbling over his own words. He never does that, not him, Kurt Elizabeth Hummel! "You … play the piano at the Adagio, don't you?"

Blaine-Jake nods.

"My boyfriend and I have been there a few days ago and sat almost next to the small stage."

Blaine-Jake looks thoughtfully and runs his finger through his hair. Just as he used to, Kurt can't stop himself from thinking.

"Huh, yeah, possible I've seen you there. Although I usually don't pay any attention to the people sitting next to the stage." He knits his brows together. "You remind me of someone, but I can't remember..."

Kurt feels his heart skipping a beat.

"Anyways, I'm Jake." Blaine-Jake offers Kurt the hand that's not holding his umbrella.

"Kurt." Kurt smiles at him and takes the hand.

"As in Sound of Music?"

That makes Kurt laugh.

"Yeah, as in Sound of Music." He's grinning. "Not many people have that association."

"What can I say..." He runs his fingers through his curly hair again and messes them even more up. "I've been a music addict for forever. Or at least as long as I can remember."

Kurt just wants to ask what Blaine-Jake means, as a taxi pulls up in front of them.

The door opens and Blaine-Jake hands Kurt the umbrella. "Here, you can have it for now. I'm afraid it's going to take a few minutes at least until the next cab will arrive and it doesn't look like it's going to stop raining."

He's sprinting towards the open door of the cab.

"But ..." Kurt wants to ask him when they're going to see each other again. And when and where he can give him his umbrella back.

"You can come to my work. They know me at the Adagio." Blaine-Jake laughs and slams the door shut and the cab drives off.

Kurt looks after the lights until they vanish behind the next turn.

* * *

><p>AN: Lyrics are from Rihanna's "Umbrella", but I listened to the version by Boyce Avenue.  
>AN2: Part two is scheduled around Christmas, as a small "gift".


	4. Chapter 2  Part 2

A/N: Merry belated Christmas!

* * *

><p>When he arrives at the hotel the rain has finally stopped. He puts the umbrella in the small paper basket next to the door and peels his wet clothes off that are anything but glued to his body.<p>

Blaine-Jake had been right. The next cab hadn't arrived until ten minutes later and until then it hadn't stopped raining. He takes a look at his watch and considers calling Mercedes at this time. But it's almost half past one in the morning and it's even later in Chicago and now that he's sure that Blaine-Jake's not only a mirage, or another piece of his imagination, calling Mercedes can wait until tomorrow. Or later, since it is technically tomorrow.

So he grabs his pajamas and heads for the bathroom. And although he survived rain that was a lot colder than this one it can't hurt to take a hot shower. And he always found that thinking was easier when he was showering.

The shower has a nice size and as he turns on the water – he's got the hang of it now – the water has got the perfect temperature. Kurt stands directly under the hot stream and while his hair gets soaked with the hot water he starts thinking about the whole Blaine-Jake story.

By now he's sure that it actually is Blaine. Although he's got a different name and looks a bit different. But what has happened that they are where they are, he wonders as he squeezes a bit shampoo into his hand. After the second round of shampooing and the mandatory conditioner treatment he turns off the water, opens the door to grab a towel and comes to a decision: During the weeks he will be here in Los Angeles he wants to find out what happened to Blaine. And tomorrow, first thing in the morning he's going to call Mercedes and ask for her opinion about this whole mess. Once he finished drying his hair he plops down on his bed. It's two o'clock in the morning by now and Matt still hasn't returned home. Deep down inside him, he realizes as he snuggles even deeper into the cushions, he feels a bit better thinking about Blaine. At least for the first time since he left.

"Hey Kurt!" Mercedes picks up after the second ring.

"Hey babe!" Kurt's extremely relieved to hear her voice. Sure, he could talk with Matt about it when he returns from work that night. Or with Leah. Or Pip. But those three got to know him after Blaine had left. And Mercedes knows them both.

"How do you like the City of Angels?"

"It's nice, I think."

"You think?"

"Yeah … It ..." He hesitates, because he doesn't know how to start.

"What's up, boo?"

That's why he likes Mercedes. Even though there are hundreds of miles between them, she can tell that there's something wrong with him.

"I … I've seen Blaine."

"You did what?"

He takes a deep breath and suddenly it all comes bubbling out of him. "Matt and I have been at this restaurant you recommended and we had a table next to the piano. And suddenly Blaine turns up, sits down at the piano and starts playing. I've seen him again yesterday, at a taxi stand and he gave me his umbrella."

Mercedes is silent for a short moment.

"And he didn't recognize you? I mean, you haven't changed that much in the last year and a half."

"That's the problem. He doesn't recognize me anymore. Something had to have happened, because they're calling him Jake instead of Blaine."

"Jake, huh?" Mercedes sounds as if she doesn't believe him. "And you're sure that -"

"Yeah, I am sure." Kurt gets impatient. "I want to know what happened, Mercedes. Why he didn't call out of a sudden. Why he stayed here, in Los Angeles. And why his name is Jake." At the end of his little monolog his voice is barely audible.

"So... You still have his umbrella, right?"

"Yes, he said I should bring it back to the restaurant."

"Okay, that's something we can work with, boo."

"What do you mean?"

He could hear in her voice that she was grinning.

"A friend of mine, Kate, is still working there. I'll be sending her your cell phone number asap and then you can ask her on which evenings Blaine … or Jake … or whatever his name is right now … works there. Then you can give him his umbrella back personally and ask him if you two could go out for a drink. Tell him -" She thinks for a moment. "Tell him, he reminds you of an old friend from school. That's not even a lie."

Kurt chuckles silently. "Oh Mercedes. What would I do without you?"

"Keep on breathing, babe, keep on breathing." But he can hear her chuckling, too. "But I have to say bye now. I'm sending you Kate's number in a text and write her as well, that you get in touch with her. She really is okay."

"Thanks, babe."

"For you, Kurt, always."

Getting the next day off isn't as easy as Kurt had imagined. He negotiates with Matt that he will get Kurt's next day off and as he puts a self-cooked meal on top, he is successful. The only flaw in that plan is finding a kitchen that will meet his requirements. It isn't until talking to their manager that he is actually afraid of his plan failing.

"Kurt, we did count on you tonight. Matt's dress is already at the dry cleaner's!"

"Come on, Marc. You know I usually don't do that. I stood on stage performing with a hundred degrees fever and a sore throat, just because this critic was sitting somewhere in the audience."

"And it was worth it!" Marc throws in.

"I never said it wasn't." Kurt crosses his legs. This chair is everything but comfortable and he feels as if he was sitting back in principal Figgins office. "But I simply need the evening off tomorrow. Please believe me I wouldn't ask if it wasn't necessary."

Marc scratches his head and Kurt sees that his hair is already streaked with gray.

"You already talked to Matt?"

Kurt just knows that he has won.

"Yeah, he'll swap for my next free day and a home-cooked meal."

Marc inhales deeply. "Alright, alright. You won, Kurt. I only hope for you, that it's worth it."

Kurt stands up and pushes the chair back. "Thanks, Marc."

Leaving the improvised office he hopes that it is wort it, too. Because he can't fathom how Blaine-Jake will react.

The next evening finds him standing in front of the Adagio's backdoor with a bright yellow umbrella in his hand.

Before he writes a text to Kate he looks down at him self-consciously. Charcoal cloth pants from Chanel, black Manolo Blahnik's and a simple, white polo shirt by Ralph Lauren. Timeless, elegant but not too much if you don't care for designer labels. He hopes that it's just right for this … date. Even though he doesn't know if it actually is a date, or just simply seeing each other. He takes one last breath before sending the text.

Waiting at the backdoor. Thanks again for everything! - Kurt

Only a few minutes after he sent the text, the door opens.

"Kurt?" The young woman who steps out into the night takes him a bit by surprise. He expected her to be more like Mercedes. But instead she wears elegant clothes: A black skirt that ends just above her knees, black ballet flats with decorative, silver clasps and a white blouse with a few ruffles at the front. Her auburn curls were in a loose up-do. Then Kurt remembers that her clothes probably are part of a dress code for work, but that doesn't mean he doesn't like it.

"Yep."

"Mercedes has told me so much about you." And instead of taking his proffered hand she hugs him. Well, that would explain why she and Mercedes got along so well with each other. "So you've got the feeling that you know Jake from high school? Or how am I to understand your text?"

Kurt starts to spin the umbrella in his hand, feeling a bit embarrassed. "Well, not really. He reminds me of someone I went to high school with. And anyways," he lifts the umbrella, "he gave me this last night. And … I wanted to give it back to him."

"Ah," she smiles at him. "Well, then please come into our sacred halls." She laughs softly when she says that and holds the door open for him. "It's still relatively empty, but Jake's already there, because our chef Carlos has a soft spot for him and always prepares a small meal before he has to go on stage."

Kurt walks through a small hallway that would probably be broader if it weren't for all the boxes lining the walls, that are probably for the suppliers.

The hallway splits into a right and a left way and Kurt follows Kate to the right one.

"He's probably in our staff room."

As she opens the door Kurt can see that she guessed right. In the middle of a room, at a table sits Blaine-Jake and a table with ravioli in tomato sauce in front of him.

"Hey, Jake, look who was standing outside, looking like a lost puppy. He said he was looking for you." She gives Kurt a small nudge.

Blaine-Jake looks up. "Oh, hi. I didn't expect you so soon." He smiles.

"Well, it is your umbrella after all, isn't it?" Kurt lifts said object a bit so Blaine-Jake can see it.

"Oh, yeah, right. Thanks." He takes a forkful of ravioli and motions Kurt to sit down. "But you didn't come only because of that, are you?" he asks when he finishes.

Kurt beats a bit round the bush. "Well … no."

Blaine-Jake grins. "You wanna here me play, right?"

Kurt grins back at him. "Although I remember you playing wonderfully, I have to disappoint you."

Blaine-Jake looks at him a bit surprised. "What is it then?"

"You … you remind me of someone."

"Huh? That's something you have to tell me about."

"It's … complicated."

"Oh, I don't mind complicated, but -"

In exactly that moment the door opens and as Kurt turns around he sees that Kate has vanished, but their waiter from a few days ago, Patrick, enters.

"Oops, sorry. Didn't want to interrupt."

"You didn't, Pat."

"That's great, babe, cause you gotta get ready. Because they wanna see your nice ass up on stage."

Blaine-Jake sighs and looks down on his plate with ravioli. "Oh well, what am I expecting? When the food is for free, of course I can't enjoy it." He shoves the plate over to Kurt. "Here, you can have it if you want to. Because they are sure to be cold until I'm finished and Carlos food is too good to throw it away."

"Oh, thanks."

Blaine-Jake pushes his chair back and gets up. When he's halfway to the door he turns around. "What's with your story anyways?"

Kurt looks up. "Well, I can't tell it to you now, can I?"

"That's true." Blaine looks at his watch. "Well, if you like, you can stay." He points to a bookshelf. "We have a few books here, in case you get bored. I'm done here at midnight and you could tell me then."

Kurt nods.

Blaine smiles. "I'm really looking forward to it." Before he leaves he kisses Patrick. And although Kurt always thought he was over their separation, it feels strange to see him kissing another guy.

Patrick stays and watches his boyfriend leave while Blaine obviously leaves for the restaurant to entertain the guests with some classical music. Then he turns to Kurt.

"You've been here a while ago as a patron, right?"

"With my boyfriend," states Kurt.

"Yeah," he grins, "a tall, handsome guy..."

That's when Kurt recalls how Patrick flirted with Matt the whole evening and he gets a bit angry because he's got Blaine... no, Jake and if he flirts with other guys he doesn't deserve Bl- Jake.

"Yes," he answers shortly and hopes he doesn't sound too angry. Because he isn't allowed to and anyway, this situation is so frustrating that he would like to scream.

"Tell him I said hi." Patrick still stands next to the door and somehow looks ridiculously handsome and for a short moment Kurt knows why Blaine fell in love with him. But then again, he doesn't really get it, because Blaine could have every other guy. Actually, every other guy would be better than this arrogant, egoistic -

"Well," Patrick reaches for the door knob, "I have to go back to work. I'll see you later or something like that." He grins at Kurt one last time, winks at him and leaves.

Kurt turns around and closes his eyes. He wonders what he's doing in that place. Blaine has a new life and seems happy, even if his boyfriend seems like a complete idiot who doesn't know what he has in Blaine. When he opens his eyes again he looks down on the plate with ravioli that Blaine gave him. And that reminds him of what he's doing here. Why he lied to his boyfriend. Why he traded his only day off next week to be here. He wants to... No, he needs an explanation why Blaine left over a year ago. Why he simply walked out of his life without ever calling him again.


	5. Chapter 2 Part 3

A/N: Sorry that it took me so long updating this story! Unfortunately my thumb drive crashed at the beginning of the new year and I lost a lot. And unfortunately I just didn't had the nerves to translate this all over again. But here is the last part of chapter 2, extra long because I kept you waiting. :) Have fun reading!

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><p>Kurt looks again at the clock and notices that it is a few minutes after midnight. Blaine said that he would be done with work around midnight and then they could meet again. By now he's halfway through with Agatha Christie's "Murder on the Orient Express" - really the only book available he found remotely interesting.<p>

And then the door opens. Kate enters, followed by Blaine and Patrick who are holding hands. All three of them look exhausted, especially Patrick and Kate, but they look happy as well.

"... coming along?"

"Well, I don't know, Kate. I promised Kurt that he could tell me why he waited for so long in a really boring room." Blaine-Jake grins at him. And it's only then that Kurt realizes he calls him Blaine when he thinks of him. But as soon as he is there, he calls him this strange mixed name. He doesn't know why, or doesn't want to admit it.

"Come on. The karaoke bar isn't that bad. And maybe Kurt would like coming along as well? At least Mercedes told me that he used to sing." Kate looks at him. "Or don't you?"

Kurt closes the book and puts it down. "Well, it's half the truth. I still sing." He grins at Kate.

"Oh? You have to tell us!"

"Not tonight." What he really means is: I don't want to tell you. Not now. Not with Patrick here.

Blaine-Jake looks at Patrick. "So, are you going?"

"Of course! You really think I want to miss Carlos making a complete idiot out of himself by singing 'Dancing Queen'?"

All three laugh at this obvious inside joke.

"So, you don't have a problem with my going with Kurt? Talking, maybe having a drink..." Blaine looks a bit insecure as he watches Patrick.

"No, why should I?" Patrick puts his arm around Blaines waist and pulls him closer. "Just have a nice evening." When Patrick kisses Blaine, Kurt has to look away.

-x-

Fifteen minutes later, Blaine-Jake put on a cardigan, they walk down the street.

"Two blocks down there is a nice little gay bar," Blaine-Jake says. "Uhm, that is, if you don't mind. But it's the closest bar and the drinks are not too expensive and the owner is a pretty good friend of mine and -"

Kurt interrupts. "No, it's okay. I haven't been in a gay bar since New York."

"You're from New York?" Out of the corners of his eyes Kurt can see Blaine looking at him.

"Not really. I grew up in Ohio, but I studied in New York."

"Oh. So, how is New York?"

Kurt would love to say "Don't you remember? Can't you remember the times we went for a walk in Central Park? Or when we went ice skating with Rachel by the Rockefeller Center shortly before Christmas? How we blew off New Year's Eve on Times Square with the guys from New Directions under the pretense we had a stomach bug, so that we could spend the whole evening together in bed?" But instead he says "Nice. New York is nice. Even if it's a … different kind of nice than Los Angeles."

"I … haven't been there. I think."

"You think?" Kurt is confused and looks at Blaine-Jake.

"Uhm, yeah. I'll tell you another time, if that's OK with you?"

"Sure." He smiles at Blaine-Jake. "Every story has its own time and place, doesn't it?"

Blaine-Jake smiles back.

And then, almost too sudden, Blaine Jake stops. "Here it is."

'Queerdom' is written above the door in illuminated, rainbow-colored letters.

Blaine-Jake holds the door open for Kurt and follows him in.

Kurt has to admit that he likes it. Tasty but not too much. And somehow still … special. Fur fabrics and velvet everywhere (but the colors match!), bar stools upholstered with black leather, disco balls hanging from the ceiling and lots of pictures covering the walls. A life-sized figurine of Marylin Monroe is standing in one corner.

Blaine-Jake goes towards the bar and a woman, Kurt guesses she is around fourty, greets him.

"Jake, darling! I haven't seen you in ages!

She hugs him over the counter top and kisses him on each cheek. For a moment she reminds Kurt of Steve, but with her it seems honest and loving.

"Marie! I'm so, so sorry. But there's college and the Adagio and then my job with The Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf … You know that it stresses me out."

"Yeah, honey, it's okay." She looks over Blaine-Jake's shoulder. "And who's that cutie?"

Blaine laughs and grabs Kurt's hand.

"Marie, this is Kurt. Kurt, that's Marie, the bar's kind soul."

"It's so nice to meet you, Kurt."

"Nice to meet you, too."

She, too, hugged him over the top of the counter and kissed him on both cheeks.

"The usual, Jake?"

"Yes, please, and for my friend here … uhm … what would you like to drink, Kurt?"

Kurt pondered it for a moment. "A scotch with soda, please." Actually, he would like to drink something sweeter, but he needs something strong to get more courage for what he should tell Blaine in a few moments. Or what he has to tell him. Or both, maybe.

"Come, we can sit down somewhere." Blaine-Jake pulls him to a small booth in a corner. "Marie will bring us our drinks."

Kurt sits down on one side of the table and Blaine-Jake sits across from him.

"Back at the restaurant, Kate said that you used to sing."

Oh, luckily something that's light enough. He was afraid that Blaine-Jake would start with the heavy topics right from the beginning, without giving him the time to gather some courage. Not that it was like him to give himself Dutch courage, but … this situation isn't exactly ordinary.

"Well, like I said before... Not really. I still sing, but only partially."

Blaine-Jake looks at him a bit confused. "What do you mean by that?"

Kurt laughs quietly. "I'm a member of a theater group. Our program at the moment is a musical with which we are touring through the US. We've been in Los Angeles for almost three weeks and when we're done here we're continuing towards San Diego. From there it's Las Vegas and then Phoenix."

Blaine-Jake is actually gaping. "Wow."

That's the moment when their drinks arrive.

"Here you are, sweethearts. Have a wonderful night." Marie winks at them.

Blaine-Jake takes his beer and raises it. "To … uhm... to what should we drink?"

Kurt reaches for his scotch. "To … to one meeting of many," he offers.

They chink glasses. "To one night of many."

Kurt takes a sip and relishes the feeling how a slight burning from the alcohol spreads in his mouth and throat.

"You're attending college," he asks when he puts his glass down.

"Yes. The Community College in Pasadena."

"And … what exactly are you studying?"

"Oh, nothing special. Just 'Performing and Communication Arts', majoring in music … I hope I can work in that direction one day."

"You'd like to become a musician?"

"Well... not really becoming. I like to sing. And I can play a bit of both piano and guitar."

Kurt thinks back. "I like to sing" is a bit of an understatement, if you would ask him. Blaine always sang. Under the shower. In the car. While cooking. Geez, when they moved into their first apartment in Manhattan, Blaine even sang while he was painting the walls! Kurt can't keep himself from smiling.

"Sounds familiar."

Blaine-Jake looks at him questioningly. "What do you mean?"

Kurt takes another sip. Now or never. Go in and win! Let him have it! He's out of lousy clichés, although thinking about them would be a fantastic opportunity to postpone the conversation he is about to have.

"The real reason I came ..."

Blaine looks at him. His hazel eyes twinkle a bit. And Kurt has to suppress the urge to kiss him.

"You remind me of someone I knew at high school."

Blaine drinks some of his beer. "Knew?"

"Yeah..." Kurt hesitates for a moment. How much should he tell him? Now that they're seeing each other for the third time, and are actually talking for the first time. He decides on keeping a bit of the truth from Blaine. Technically speaking that's not even lying. "During my senior year we were together in our school's Glee Club. And later on we left for New York with a friend, so we could study at NYADA." He drinks more of his scotch. "We … shared an apartment." Which is true. Kind of. Only that they also shared the bedroom and even the bed. "The rents are pretty high in New York," he tries to excuse himself.

"And why did you lost contact? Or ..."

Kurt sighs and watches the amber-colored liquid as he carefully plays with his class. "No, we're not in touch anymore. But I'd like to know why, too."

"So he never told you why he doesn't call?" Blaine-Jake looks at him, confusion in his eyes.

"No. One day he just left, without leaving a message or ever calling again. He is out of touch with everyone, even with our friends."

"Wow." Blaine-Jake plays with the beer glass. "That's tough."

Kurt nods. It hurts talking about Blaine.

"Have you ..."

Kurt looks up.

"Have you two been together?"

Kurt hesitates.

"Of course you don't have to tell me," Blaine-Jake answers quickly, interpreting Kurt's hesitation correctly.

He deserves so much truth, Kurt thinks.

"Yes, we were an item."

"Ouch. That hurts even more, him just leaving."

Kurt laughs harshly. "You can say that." He empties the rest of his scotch in one gulp.

"Do you know where he wanted to go?"

Is it too much if Kurt tells him that the love of his live left for Los Angeles? Would it make Blaine-Jake think?

"Yeah..."

"So..."

"I'm sorry, I don't want to talk about it right now."

"Sure." Blaine-Jake smiles at him. "I know how it feels like if you don't want to talk about something. Or can't."

"Hm?"

But in that moment Marie comes to their table again. "Do you two handsome guys want another drink?"

"I'll get another scotch with soda, please."

"Of course, love." She smiles. "And what about you, baby?"

Blaine-Jake looks at the small puddle in his beer glass. "A ginger … oh, screw it. Another beer, please, Marie."

She laughs as she leaves to get their drinks.

For a moment Kurt watches her leaving, then turns around to Blaine again.

"So?"

"What 'so'?"

"You said something along those lines that you know how it feels if you can't talk about things," he inquires.

"Oh, that. Well..." Blaine-Jake draws a deep breath. "It's … a bit complicated."

"I know complicated, believe me. We had two divas in our Glee Club," he pauses when Blaine-Jake raises an eyebrow. "Okay, fine, three divas, including me." Blaine-Jake laughs and Kurt has to grin. Blaine's laugh always had been contagious. "Anyways, we fought often enough about solos or who would be allowed to sing which part. I still don't know why our teacher never lost it." He shrugs apologetically. "You see, hardly anything can shock me." And he's got a slight idea what Blaine-Jake wants to tell him and he could hit himself that he hasn't had that idea sooner.

"Okay." Marie has brought their new drinks at some point while they were talking and Blaine takes another sip from his new beer.

"It's been a bit over a year, I guess it should be around sixteen months... I woke up in a hospital and couldn't remember anything. I didn't know my name, or where I come from. I didn't know where I was, either, apart from the obvious fact that I was at a hospital. I couldn't even tell you which year it was or who was our president. My memory was blank. Completely blank."

He takes another sip and watches the foam sliding down the sides of the glass. Kurt doesn't dare saying anything.

"I didn't have to learn everything. I could still talk. And walk. And play guitar as well as piano. But anything that involved me was gone."

He looks at Kurt and the only thing that comes to Kurt's mind is to nod. Stupid, really, but what could he say anyways?"

"They called me Jake, because one of the nurses said I looked a bit like her father." He laughs a bit embarrassed. "And they also said I had to be around 22, or 23. Maybe even 24. We settled on 22," he laughs. "You know, if you can become younger again, it's not the worst thing that can happen." Kurt grins despite everything.

"The nurse who thought I looked like her father, took me home so I could live somewhere in the beginning. And after a few days she told me everything that happened. That I had a severe car accident in which all my things burnt. That's why they didn't know who I was. I was in a coma for over a months and in the beginning they weren't even sure if I would make it." He twists his hands around the glass. "But as you can see," he looks back at Kurt, "I'm still here. Bad weeds grow tall, or something like that." His laugh sounds a bit desperate.

Understanding hits Kurt like a fist to his stomach and he fights desperately not to let it show.

"And then she helped me finding a job. The only thing I really could was playing guitar and piano. And sing. But try to find a good paying job that includes singing. That's how I ended up at the Adagio, playing a few nights every week for the guests. I met Pat there, too."

The look on Blaine-Jake's face is one that Kurt know well. Maybe a bit too well, because that's how he used to look at him – hopelessly in love.

"And after a while we got together. It's been eight months now." Blaine-Jake smiles.

"Would you," Kurt has to clear his throat. "Would you like to know things from your former life? Who you were? Who you were friends with? And … things like that."

Blaine-Jake looks at him. "I don't know. Sure, it would be nice, but would it really change something?"

-x-

When Kurt takes a cab back to the hotel later that night, he is confused, but somehow he sees things clearer than before. It's a strange feeling, and one he doesn't want to have too often.

But at least he now knows what happened to Blaine, his Blaine. He had a car accident in which he lost everything. Not only his cell phone or his driver's license, but his identity, too.

Of course that explains as well why he never called again, why he simply left.

And suddenly Kurt hates himself for thinking the worst about Blaine. To assume that Blaine just vanished from his life. Blaine, the Blaine he knew, never would have done that.

Only when he is in the elevator, on the way to the room he shares with Matt, he sees that he must have been crying on the way to the hotel.


	6. Chapter 3  Part 1

A/N: Since my birthday is coming up, I thought I'd give you a treat and post the new chapter earlier than planned. ^^ The lyrics are from Lady Antebellum's "One Day You Will". Have fun reading!

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><p>You'll find love, you'll find peace<p>

And the you you're meant to be

I know right now that's not the way you feel

But one day you will

It's two days later when Kurt just gets ready for the next show that his cell phone vibrates.

He picks it up from his vanity and sees he got a text from a number he doesn't recognize.

_I would like to talk to you. When are you free? - Jake_

Kurt stares at his cell phone. Someone's playing a prank on him, he's sure about that. Because he didn't gave Jake his number and where should he have gotten it from. But still, he's happy about it even if he feels a bit uncomfortable.

_Jake? Who plays piano at the Adagio and with whom I had a drink a few nights ago?_

Mere moments later his phone vibrates again.

_I'm surprised by how many Jakes you seem to know who would like to talk to you._

Kurt smiles.

_Sorry, I was just surprised that you wrote me a text. Where did you get my number?_

_Traded it for a piano lesson. Kate wants to learn for quite a while now. ;)_

_Ah, that explains a lot. What do you wanna talk about?_

Kurt feels reminded about how it used to be, how he survived whole classes because he texted with Blaine. He thinks about his first text ever that he got from Blaine and that he hasn't deleted until today: Courage.

He barely notices that his cellphone vibrates again.

_Not this way. Face to face._

Kurt glances at his watch.

_My next day off isn't until in a few days. And actually I wanted to spend that with my boyfriend._

Now it takes a while until he receives an answer.

_It can't really wait. Maybe we could meet during a lunch break?_

Kurt thinks about it for a moment. Usually he spends his lunch break with Matt, Leah and Pip, but maybe he can sneak away...

_Don't you have to be at College?_

_We have this week off, because of project week. So?_

He just started writing a reply when there's a knock on his door.

"Come on in!"

He turns around in his seat and is surprised to see Matt entering.

"Hey honey." Kurt smiles at his boyfriend.

"Hey." Matt smiles back and kisses him. "I wanted to talk to you about tomorrow..."

Matt can't know about him meeting Blaine, right? Kurt feels a bit guilty anyway, because Matt doesn't know anything about their meeting two days ago, because when he came home, Matt was gone again, only a scrap of paper on their bed saying he was out dancing with Leah and Pip.

"What about tomorrow?"

Matt sighs. "I have to cancel lunch. I twisted my ankle at dance rehearsal this morning and Marc wants me to see a doctor about it. Unfortunately the next free appointment isn't until tomorrow morning so... And he wants me to sit out until tomorrow."

"Sounds awesome." Kurt can't keep a light sarcastic tone out of his voice.

"It does, right? It doesn't even hurt."

Kurt looks at Matt for a while.

"Okay, it doesn't hurt anymore – okay, okay, it doesn't hurt as much as this morning. And you know that I hate doctors. And if I'm lucky I won't be allowed back on stage for a few weeks which means that you're one man short. And that means you won't have any days off until I'm declared okay again."

Kurt takes his boyfriend's hand. "You know I won't care about that if it means that you're getting better. Even if that also means you're a bit bitchy, because you're always bitchy when you haven't anything to do." He winks at Matt. "But you know that I keep my fingers crossed that it's nothing bad. Not only because of my days off or because I like myself calm. You do know that, right?"

Mat kneels down in front of Kurt's chair, wincing slightly. "Of course I know that." And then he takes Kurt's face between his hands and kisses him.

When they break apart and Matt stands up, Kurt smiles. "Go home. Or more precisely, go back to the hotel. Take a nap, put your foot up. And please, ask the room-service for ice."

"Will do that." Matt turns around to leave. He already has his hand on the doorknob when he pauses for a moment. "Kurt?"

"Hm?" Kurt was in the process of turning back to the mirror.

"Break legs."

"Thanks."

The door slamming shut is like a sign for Kurt to grab his cell phone. Now he doesn't have to think of an excuse. Well, at least not for his boyfriend. And he's sure he will come up with one for Leah and Pip; if only the one that he needs some time alone. Being stuck in a hotel room, all those rehearsals and stuff.

_Tomorrow, 12.30pm, Pershing Square?_

He hasn't even put the phone back down onto the vanity when it vibrates again, flashing a new message.

_OK_

Nothing more, just those two letters. But to Kurt it feels like the start of a whole new life. Or maybe the start of an adventure that he can't quite grasp.

The next day he gets out of the metro station on Pershing Square and looks around.

Okay, maybe Pershing Square was a bad idea. So many people and so many exits he could have taken and just so much and why exactly did he chose that spot?

He crosses the street and walks up those few steps. And then he remembers why he wanted to meet here. Those small trees and the grass where you can sit down. The tables where you can read your newspaper and drink a cup of coffee in peace. And the fountain that's more a crossover between a fountain and a tiny, artificial lake that has a small wall surrounding it on which you can sit. Around Pershing Square are, of course, the skyscrapers that are constantly present in Downtown Los Angeles and which are the only thing that remind Kurt of New York.

As he crosses the lawn, he has an idea where he could find Blaine. That is, if Blaine-Jake is something like the Blaine he knew. He walks directly towards the south-western part of the place, where the fountain is located. And he was right. On the wall sits Blaine, legs stretched in front of him, head tilted backwards, and face bathing in the sun. Before Blaine followed Kurt to New York to study there as well, Kurt always joked that he probably should apply for universities in Southern California, sun worshiper he is.

Kurt sits down next to Blaine. "Hey."

Blaine opens his eyes and it is as if there was a switch inside of Kurt, because it's Blaine-Jake again, not Blaine.

"Hey!" Blaine-Jake smiles. "Any troubles on your way here?"

Kurt shrugs. "Not really. But I'm always amazed by LA's metro."

Blaine-Jake laughs. "Yeah, well, you get used to it. When do you have to get back?"

Kurt glances at his watch and thinks about how long it took him to get here and that it probably takes him just as long to get back. "In about thirty minutes."

Blaine-Jake nods. "You want to grab a bite? There's a bakery about a block from here, and the bagels there are pretty good."

"Sure, why not."

They get up and walk next to each other, silent for a while.

"Why -"

"Do y-"

They start speaking simultaneously and when they look at each other, they start laughing.

"You go first," Kurt says when he stopped. It feels a bit like it used to, walking down the street next to each other. But only a bit.

"Thanks. So … I couldn't stop thinking about what you said."

"What exactly? Or more precisely, what was it that made you think?"

"That I remind you of someone who vanished from your life without calling again."

"Well, I have to admit," Kurt concedes, "that it's not the whole truth. He called again, just once. And ..." He sighs. "I didn't tell you everything."

They are in front of the bakery and Kurt holds the door for Blaine-Jake.

There is a small line in front of the counter, most of the people waiting are wearing suits and ties or white blouses and skirts. Typical office clothing and once again Kurt is happy that he doesn't have to wear something as boring as that every day.

They continue talking when they leave the bakery – Kurt with a salmon and cream-cheese bagel and a grande low-fat mocha and Blaine-Jake with a turkey and salad bagel and a medium drip coffee.

Blaine-Jake leads Kurt somewhere, and he has no idea where they are going, he just knows that it isn't back to Pershing Square.

"What didn't you tell me," Blaine-Jake asks.

And Kurt knows, or rather guesses that it is important, so he decides to tell him everything. Everything apart from what he guesses.

"The young man who left, didn't just … leave." He takes a small sip of his mocha. "He," Kurt searches for the right words, "wanted to come back after two weeks, maybe three. He wasn't sure when he left."

Blaine-Jake doesn't say anything.

"I can clearly remember the day I drove him at the crack of dawn to LaGuardia, so he wouldn't miss his flight. And for a long time I asked if it was the right thing to do, letting him go on his own." He sighs and takes another sip.

"He left for Los Angeles, didn't he?"

The question he hoped for and dreaded at the same time. "Yes." His voice is barely a whisper.

"And … now you think that I'm this … your … ex-boyfriend." It's not a question. It's a statement. And Kurt doesn't know how to answer, because he thinks... Strike that. He knows it's Blaine. His Blaine. But somehow he isn't and it's all so complicated and so confusing that Kurt would love to run his hand through his hair if that wouldn't mean the end to his perfectly styled hair. But instead of commenting on what Blaine just said he goes on as if he hadn't heard him.

"He called as soon as he was in Los Angeles, you know. A short call ..." And suddenly Kurt's thoughts are back to the day, that one day, that left him thinking he had lost Blaine for ever.

It's afternoon and Kurt rehearses a song with Rachel that he wants to sing at his next casting when suddenly his cell phone rings.

'You think I'm pretty without any make-up on, you think I'm funny wh-'

"Hello?"

"Kurt? Oh my god, Kurt!" Blaine sounds excited. "I'm in Los Angeles!" Okay, excited and like a child. Kurt has to smile involuntarily.

"Congratulations, Captain Obvious, that you realized that."

"Shut it, Kurt!" But Blaine is laughing.

"How is it in sunny California?"

"Sunny. And … uhm … Oh, I don't know. Of course it's great, but it's not the same without you."

"I miss you too, Blaine."

"But I have to stop, because I want to go to a casting soon and I'd like to go check out the bathroom before that."

"You're calling after that and telling me how it was?"

"What a stupid question. Of course I will!"

Kurt smiles.

"I love you, Blaine."

"Love you, too! Bye!"

"Kurt?" Kurt jumps a bit.

Blaine-Jake stopped walking and Kurt didn't notice and just walked on.

He turns around and realizes there are only a few steps between them.

"Uhm... sorry, I kinda zoned out."

"You could say that." Blaine catches up. "If we cross the streets, we can sit down in front of the public library."

Kurt nods and only a few minutes later – they walked silently next to each other again – they are sitting on the lawn in front of the public library. Kurt is glad he chose jeans, because the grass stains aren't as obvious on them.

"You said something about a phone call."

Kurt gets the bagel out of the brown paper bag. "Well, after this one last call I never heard of him again. He just vanished, and I thought I hadn't been good enough as a friend until..."

"Until you saw me playing at the Adagio."

"Yes." Somehow it's easy to talk to him about it. At least it is now, but most likely it will get harder again anytime soon. That is, if they will meet again.

"And you're sure …?" The "that it's me" is unsaid, but definitely there.

Kurt sighs and pulls his cell phone out of his pocket.

He never managed to delete the last picture he took of Blaine and him, shortly before Blaine went through the security check at LaGuardia. Almost mechanically he touches the screen, searching for the picture in the folder and when it pops up on the screen, he offers Blaine-Jake his phone.

"May I?" Blaine-Jake reaches for the phone, without touching it.

Kurt nods, because right now he isn't sure if he could actually speak.

Blaine-Jake looks at the picture intently and Kurt forces himself to take a bite off of his bagel, although his throat feels dry. He has no idea how Blaine-Jake will react and even if he can convince him that they know each other, or knew maybe, what would it change? Kurt has a boyfriend, as well as Blaine-Jake. They both have their respective lives. Kurt's is usually centered around New York while Blaine-Jake lives in Los Angeles. There are several time zones between them, several mountains, lakes, and more states than Kurt is comfortable with and thousands of miles.

Just as he wants to take another bite of his bagel, Blaine-Jake gives him his cell phone back.

"It's so surreal..."

Kurt looks up.

"You know, I always thought that I'd never know who I am. Or was." He shakes his head. " Somehow it's even more confusing than before.

Kurt laughs shortly, harshly. "You don't need to tell me that. I always thought you left me and now you sit here, next to me. And I wanted to hate you, because you hurt me so much, but I should hate myself, because it's not your fault, never was and I never thought that something could have happened to you."

Blaine-Jake looks at him. "I ..." He takes a deep breath. "I don't know if I'm ready for … this." He waves with his hands. "You know? It's rather new for me. Suddenly I have the possibility to get to know things about my past, but it feels like it's someone else's life. And I'm curious nonetheless. If you ignore that I'm scared as shit."

Kurt looks at him over the edge of his paper cup. "Scared?"

Blaine-Jake puts his cup down next to him, and looks straight ahead before he turns to Kurt. "Kurt, what exactly do you want from me?"


End file.
